Broken Soulmates
by MarbleSky
Summary: When two people lose themselves in trying to make everything better, the best option to find their own happiness is to be broken together. One-shot.
**So this is a story I wrote one day out of a whim. Completely random but it came out better than I expected so I decided to share it. Hope you guys like it and please leave me a review to let me know what you think. :)**

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Hate.

She knew what hate was.

She hated how everything fell on her. She hated how everything had changed from the days when it had all been so simple. She hated Henry for giving her up to the gnawers. She hated his jealousy and his desire to take the throne from her. She hated the gnawers for killing her parents. She hated the guards for not being able to protect them. She hated her parents for leaving her so soon, for being so easy to kill…

For a while that's all she knew. There was hate in everything she did. All joy had been drained away from her, much like the childhood she never got to live. She was forced to grow up and run a kingdom, ensuring peace and tranquility to all. It was a loathsome thing for everyone to rely on you. When things went right, she was just doing her job, but when things went bad, there was always someone blaming her for everything.

Over the years, however, the hate seemed to simmer down until she could breathe easily without constantly looking over her shoulder.

There was a complacency to things now. The Overlander had completed the quests and saved the Underland. He was the warrior of prophecy and a hero of legend. There wasn't a soul down under who didn't know who he was. If they didn't respect and adore him, they definitely feared him. Even the ones who respected and adored him had a certain regard for him that was born of terror. Of not knowing whether he would one day turn on them and wreak havoc amongst the people. Everyone, whether openly or in secret, feared him to some degree. Everyone except for her.

No one knew him better than she did.

She liked having him around. It made things much easier for her. Life seemed to get a lot more peaceful when he decided to move to Regalia permanently.

The treaty with the gnawers had somehow lasted seven years, four months, and nineteen days. She made sure to count every single one of them. There was no doubt that it was because he was still in the palace, but that didn't take away from the credit she was due. More than once did she have to fly out to the Dead Lands to resolve a dispute among gnawer packs for territory. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to leave the palace so often, but who could tell her not to? Was it unwise to leave the palace even though every conflict was settled and the peace stretched? Besides, the best fighter in the Underland was always at her side, armed with the founder's welded sword, which hung faithfully at his hip wherever he went.

A sword that, at the moment, along with the rest of their clothes, lay scattered on the floor of her bedchamber.

There was no one she trusted more than she did him. He was there whenever she needed him. He had given everything up for her, his whole family and the entire Overland. She couldn't stand to be in anyone's presence for too long unless it was him. And he was exactly the same way with her. They were perfect together.

Two perfectly broken souls.

Their individual positions kept them under the watchful eye of everyone around them. Neither of them could grow too powerful. A tyrant in the monarchy was sure to fail and a deadly fighter was almost guaranteed to explode if he didn't implode first.

They were ticking time bombs in a pile of hay working day and night to defuse themselves.

It was only natural that they would find comfort in each other.

She let out a slow breath of air followed by a quiet moan as he slowed his rhythm. It was always a mystery to her how he could fit so perfectly within her.

Meant to be, was what she had heard from a servant one night in passing. When two people were meant to be, it just felt right.

There was nothing awkward about how her arms wrapped around his neck as he lay between her open thighs. Nothing strange about how their arms and legs entwined as they lay on her bed.

At the sound that escaped her lips, he looked at her face to mirror the smile she was giving him. She brought one of her hands around to stroke the back of his head, feeling the damp, sweat-covered hair that stuck out in every direction. Unhooking the other hand to place it on his cheek, she smiled wider as he closed his eyes and leaned into her open palm, whispering her name.

There was nothing more that she could ask for at the moment. She was always the happiest when they were together, but more so when they did _this_.

It had first happened a few days after her coronation. She had been assigned a few personal guards to protect her as soon as the large, golden crown was placed upon her head. But just as quickly as she replaced that crown with her lighter, less bulky golden band, the Overlander replaced her entire royal guard. The council was no more, and who would go against the word of the most successful queen ever to reign? She had kept the peace in the Underland and had expanded trade to include all other species. This was in part due to the help she received from a very skilled green-eyed ambassador who had no boundaries when it came to learning foreign tongues.

Most importantly, however, she ended the centuries-old war that had ravaged the Underland. Not everyone was completely satisfied nor did the violence cease to exist, but the formal war was at its end. She had established a truce by bonding with a peacemaking rager who would give his life for her if the circumstances dictated so.

And in a way, she had a bond with the human rager as well.

That night, after a long day of hearings and court appointments, she had entered her bedroom with a mental exhaustion like she had never felt before. She was only sixteen and already she was aging far more rapidly than anyone else in the kingdom, except maybe for the dead warrior. After removing his armor and placing it in the corner of the room, he had taken to rubbing her shoulders soothingly, his strong hands gentle on her soft, pale skin. They had both been so busy trying to fix everything for everyone else that they had completely forgotten about themselves.

There was no 'us' anymore. There simply couldn't be. Whatever had happened between them when they were eleven was put to rest and remembered only as the childish acts of two kids who didn't know what they were doing. After the War of Time, their interactions became strictly professional. They had a kingdom to run. No time for games.

But now they were adults. Just a queen and a warrior's phantom trying to better the Underland for generations to come. It bothered her how no matter who it was, everyone had someone else in their lives. If they didn't anymore due to a loss, like Vikus and Ripred, at least they did at some point. They had known what it was like to care and be cared for. They had all found someone they connected with.

Everyone…except for her and the Overlander. But they did the most, so didn't they deserve some affection?

It was that thought that had pushed her to turn around and pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, capturing his lips with hers. His initial surprise and hesitation gave way to a hunger that must have been repressed almost as long as hers, perhaps even longer.

Their inexperience and curiosity melted away into a passionate dance of delicious sin and forbidden pleasure. Neither said anything about how she was the queen and couldn't be touched until her wedding night, or the fact that he could never be her husband because he was a foreigner. Considering these things seemed unnecessary. They seemed so insignificant now. Nothing mattered more than the two of them. The entire world could burn down and they wouldn't notice, too lost in the other's deep gaze. They had touched and kissed and tasted and _adored_ until the early hours of the morning.

It became almost routine after that, to become victims of lust for each other after a stressful day. Neither of them spoke of it, whether in public or when they were by themselves. It was a silent agreement they had in which both of them got what they needed. It would have been easy to leave it at that, but neither of them had ever been about doing things the easy way, now did they?

Instead of keeping it physical and driven by raw passion alone, they had to complicate things by laying side by side, deep in thought. There were never any words exchanged, but there didn't need to be. She simply lay there with her hand on his chest while he softly trailed his fingertips up and down her back. They would wake in the mornings to find themselves still in each other's arms. A chaste kiss to his cheek was the same as the gentle press of his lips to her forehead, something she learned to crave.

Their late night sessions seemed to help the daily burdens of life as well. She didn't yell as often and he didn't fight so frequently. There was no need to do all of that when they had found a better outlet.

Her stress over running a kingdom turned into long scratches than ran down his back and deep bite marks on his shoulders. His guilt and self-loathing for all the lives he took became bruises on her hips from a grip that was slightly too tight. More than once she gave a silent prayer of gratitude to the Gods that his armor covered his neck, concealing an occasional suction mark that she left in her desperation to taste him. Sometimes his lips weren't enough. She needed _all_ of him.

Now, years later and still with an unbroken agreement, Queen Luxa found the highlight of her days during the darkest hours of the night. A single candle burned in her room, just enough to make out the face of the man above her. Her breathing was in perfect sync with his movements, the ragged exhales escaping her throat every time he pushed into her. She grasped his arm tightly, silently begging for more. Equipped with a sword, these arms could cause irreparable damage, bringing death and destruction to anyone that went against him.

But these arms could also comfort. He had held her the few times when she cried into his chest, feeling overwhelmed by everything that was going on around her. It seemed that no matter what she did, there was always something else to be done. Always another battle to be fought.

These same hands that could swing a blade and decapitate an enemy could pin her down by the wrists as he explored her neck with his tongue. They could caress her back and slowly run over her backside and down her thigh, sending delightful chills up her spine.

Raising her head up slightly to kiss him, Luxa nipped his bottom lip lightly. It drew a laugh from him; a low, comforting sound that made her smile.

He never laughed or smiled anymore, but neither did she. Their lives were much too serious for those luxuries. It was only during their shared nights that she saw his lips curl up in the corners and heard his heavenly laugh. It was the promise for that sound which kept her motivated throughout the day, counting down the endless minutes to the moment she could surrender herself completely to him.

His change in pace told her the end was near, but that was not a problem. She was past the point where her climax would come nonetheless. With a soft cry, Luxa dug her nails into his tan skin as her body trembled with pleasure and warmth. It was only a few moments later that he pulled himself away from her with a groan, almost a second too late. She smiled sadly and wondered how much longer they would keep doing that.

They had never spoken of it, but both of them knew a child would only complicate things. He was always fighting wars and she was always fighting to prevent them. They both carried a weakness in their care for one another that would only increase if a third person was added. No, a child was definitely not in the plans.

At least not for the moment.

Perhaps in the future, when things were different, their lives would allow for other things.

Children.

Marriage.

A family.

They were all things that she knew he wanted. Ideas of his world that he was raised with and had never really left him, no matter how much he denied it. He never asked anything of her, always choosing to stand by silently just a step behind her, waiting for her orders. He had given her a power over him that promised loyalty and respect, but she was selfish. She wanted more. She wanted _everything_.

"We are not supposed to," she told him softly as he moved to lay next to her on his back. His eyes were closed but his chest was still heaving. He would sleep well tonight, as he did every time he shared her bed. When they slept side by side, her mind was clear of all stress and his raging nightmares were nonexistent. She moved closer to him and settled into his side as his arm wrapped around her waist.

Hate was a very prominent feeling in her life. Finding an emotion stronger than that to push her and drive her forward was nearly impossible, but she had done it.

"We are not supposed to, but…I love you."

He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. "Dangerous words, your majesty."

"I love you, Gregor."

A deep sigh from him caused her to frown. "Don't say things things you don't mean, Luxa."

"I would not have said it if I did not mean it," she said firmly. Her tone softened before adding, "Or if I was unsure you felt the same way."

The smile he gave her caused the anger forming inside to dissipate. She waited patiently for his answer while he looked back up to stare at a spot on the ceiling.

"Well then I guess you know," he whispered.

She left it at that. There was nothing more she would get from him tonight. She could be patient. Hearing the words from his lips was not a necessity. At least not as much as knowing that he loved her back, which she already had her answer for.

Laying her head on his chest, Luxa closed her eyes and folded a leg over his midsection, his arm still around her waist. She found the sound of his heartbeat soothing and could feel herself losing consciousness.

"I love you too."

It was the vibrating of his throat that gave him away. She could have passed it off as something that sprouted from a dream or a product of her exhaustion or imagination, but the shaking of his chest proved he had spoken the words.

If she wasn't so far gone, she might have made more of an effort to smile.


End file.
